The Loft-Mate
by teamfreewill82
Summary: So I believe it's high time I wrote a story for the Glee fandom. And here it is. Please read, for the love of Klaine and Finchel. -twf82
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. All rights go to their respective owners. **

**Chapter One: **

"Please. This isn't going to work without you," Rachel persisted. For days now, Rachel Berry had been trying–and thus far failing–to convince her long-time friend and loft-mate Kurt Hummel to allow her to put up an ad stating that they were looking for a tenant. They had one extra room they had nothing to do with, and, to make a bit of extra cash, she had come up with the idea to rent it out. But Kurt was adamant.

"Rachel," he said, "there are crazy people in this world. Serial killers, drug addicts. I don't want a crazie living in our loft." Rachel threw up her hands. "That won't happen! And besides, that could all be avoided because we'd interview the person beforehand to see if they could fit in here." Kurt did not respond, or look at her. "Come on, Kurt. Don't make me beg you anymore. After everything with Finn, I… I really just-" She dropped her gaze to her lap. At this, he returned his blue eyes to his friend. "I know," he murmured. "It's been hard for me too. And I know you want to keep moving forward…" Rachel nodded. "But this isn't Ohio, Rach'."

"I know that, Kurt, really I do. But if it doesn't work out, for some reason such as the tenant really is a psycho killer, I swear to you we will kick them out into the street before they can draw their weapon. Again, that is." She leaned into him, smiling widely, and Kurt snorted, his own lips turning up as well. "Fine, okay, fine!" Rachel squealed and jumped to her feet, clapping her hands. "Thank you; thank you; thank you!"

"But if I am killed in the middle of the night by our new roommate I will not hesitate to haunt your ass."

Meanwhile, in a town best known as the home of the Dalton Academy Warblers–or to those not as interested in enjoying life, simply Westerville, Ohio–Blaine Anderson was seated in a meeting, the third of the early day and he was bored stiff. He sat as attentively as he could manage… which also meant jolting awake at the kick beneath the table he received from his close friend and fellow realtor, Sebastian Smythe. Blaine's head lifted instantly, his eyes opening before he could fully doze off. Sebastian shook his head and grinned at the table before returning his eyes to their boss.

"Sales are down, people," Figgins stated bluntly. "This is a problem. And I know people still live in houses, so why aren't they coming to us?" The 28 year old Blaine rolled his eyes. _Maybe because no one here takes any actual interest in what they do…_ "What was that, Mr. Anderson?" Sebastian stared at Blaine, who raised his eyes to Figgins and his head from his fist, elbow on the table. He straightened in his swivel chair as he cleared his throat. "Nothing. Sir." Figgins grunted and continued. "Very well. As I was saying, you all need to pick up the slack around here. We can not. Go Down," Figgins said, slapping his hands on the table on each word for emphasis, "because Puckerman Properties has a better looking founder!" He breathed out. "Meeting adjourned."

With another eye-roll, Blaine pushed to his feet, slinging his satchel bag over his shoulder. Sebastian grabbed his arm on the way out. "What's up with you?" he asked. Blaine shrugged. "Nothing."

"Liar. You've been acting weird for weeks now and it's gonna get you fired." The men stopped walking and Sebastian studied his friend. "Figure it out, alright?" After a moment, Blaine reluctantly nodded; before heading off down the hall Sebastian nodded as well, once, in satisfied return. Blaine shook his head, kicking at the carpeted floor as he made his way to his office.

He _had_ lied. There was something going on with him–he hated his job. Well, rather, he hated where he worked. There was a difference. He enjoyed being a realtor, enjoyed talking to people and moving them into the house that would become, if he was lucky, their _home_. It was a gratifying feeling, but lately, his job at Figgins Realty was beginning to make him feel like… well, like he was already a middle-aged man with a pot-belly and comb-over dressed in a cheap and sleazy mismatched suit. He _never_ wanted to be that guy. It made him feel gross. And he'd been working so hard with realty he hadn't been to Scandals–the gay bar in West Lima–in weeks, or sung hardly at all, unless you counted the shower. He was drained, and when the work he worked so hard at wasn't making him happy, he couldn't make himself believe that all of it was worth it.

Blaine wanted to make a change. Not like a medical breakthrough but a breakthrough in his _life_, with _himself_. He wanted to be the way he used to be, full of hope and ambition. And it wasn't like that was so many years ago–it felt like just yesterday he was a Warbler with dreams of becoming a Broadway star. But life had crushed those dreams, made them feel more like a fantasy than a possible reality, and he had caved to his parents' wishes of a more practical money-offering career. In this case, realty.

But that wasn't enough. He found he didn't care so much about money. What was the point of living if he wasn't _living_? And sure, that might sound like a cliché beginning to a movie about finding one's self. But that's what Blaine was going to do. Except, he wasn't going to find himself. He was simply going to _rediscover_ himself, the man he used to be. And what better place to do that than in the place where dreams like his weren't thought to be silly, where dancers and singers alike were renowned? What better place than the Big Apple itself?

**A/N: Hi! So thanks for reading the first chapter of my new multi-chap! I've recently rediscovered Klaine and have found I love them more than I ever have before. *smiley So here is the result. The 'roommates' thing has probably been done before, but probably not in this specific way. So please leave a comment telling me what you think; it would mean the world. *smiley **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. All rights go to their respective owners. **

**A/N: If you're still here, much obliged, kind reader. Thanks a billion for following! Read on!  
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**Chapter Two: **

"So how did you expect to get the word out?" Kurt questioned over his and Rachel's brunch at their favorite coffee shop in Bushwick, AP Café. As per usual, both were dressed impeccably, even just for their morning out. Kurt had on a long-sleeve white sweater and burgundy wraparound scarf to match his skinny jeans and black combat boots. His chestnut hair was adorned with a stylish black fedora. Across from him, Rachel wore a grey and black striped sweater that reached to her knees as a sort of dress, along with tall black boots. She tossed her wavy hair over one shoulder with a turn of her head and sipped from the coffee mug in front of her. "Well," she began, "I was thinking that we could maybe put up signs around the city…?" Kurt's head tilted at her. "Really?"

"Okay. What would _you_ like to do, Kurt?" she asked pointedly. He grinned. "Craigslist. We can put the info up online and then wait for an email in reply." Rachel said nothing for a moment. "That's actually a good idea," she agreed eventually. Kurt laughed lightly and took a swig of his coffee. "As though that's a new occurrence, for me to have a good idea."

Rachel made a face at him. "Oh yeah? Like it was a good idea for you to go to the Eagle?" Kurt's cheeks flamed. "How was I supposed to know it was so different from Scandals? God; I thought I told you to never speak of it again!" Rachel covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh. "I'm sorry, Kurt, really, but you have to admit that that was just hilarious. _Alfonse_?" He bit his lips but his laugh still escaped him, and soon they were both laughing together, loudly.

"You're kidding right?" When Sebastian saw the expression on Blaine's face, his apprehensive smile dropped. "Okay; not kidding. Blaine, what the hell're you talking about? You can't move to New York City." The two men, having carpooled, were on the way to drop Blaine off at his apartment; Sebastian kept glancing at Blaine while he drove as though he were worried his friend was having a fit.

Blaine moved his eyes from the window to Sebastian. "Eyes on the road." Sebastian rolled them instead. "Dude, seriously. Have you lost it? Your job is here, your life is here. What're you gonna do in New York?"

_Oh, I don't know. Try to be happy again for once in my life._ "Don't you remember the way we used to be, Bash? In the Warblers? We were like rock stars!"

"And you wanna be a rock star?" Sebastian asked slowly. "No; I just… I wanna feel that way again you know? Like my life isn't just a sad has-been story before it even really began. New York is the most amazing city in the world! What place can give me what I want better than New York can?"

"Fantasy City." Sebastian's comment sent Blaine's eyes back out the window to the same scenery he always saw. "Okay, man, sorry. Hey." Blaine looked back to him. "You wanna move to New York. Fine. But what're you gonna do there? Huh? Where're you gonna live?"

"I don't know; I haven't set it all in stone yet! Maybe I should visit first, to check the place out. I've only been there once, when I was 16, but I still remember it. It was completely amazing. I said I wanted to live there one day. Why isn't that day _today_?" Sebastian glanced at Blaine. "Man, you sound like a cliché motivational speaker." Blaine grinned, laughing slightly. "Believe me, I know. But it's what I want to do."

"You gonna sell apartments there or something?" Sebastian inquired. "Maybe," Blaine replied, shrugging against his seat. "That'd be cool. But I want to perform again, too, you know? Maybe as a side job. Or realty as the side job and performing as my main–"

"Whoa. Okay. You'll figure it out." Blaine nodded and smiled. "But what're you gonna tell your parents?"

Blaine's smile slipped from his lips and he adjusted in his seat. Sebastian drove into Blaine's complex's parking lot. "I'll… I'll think of something. See ya." Sebastian nodded and pulled out. Blaine stood still in the lot, holding his bag strap to his shoulder. He was going to New York. No matter what.

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with me y'all! Means so much and I hope you like it this far! *smiley **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. All rights go to their respective owners. **

A/N: Hi, everyone, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I just wasn't too sure about this chapter, but I really hope you enjoy it. Thanks.

**Chapter Three:  
><strong>_I can do this. I can do this._ Blaine had decided against calling his parents before dropping in on them; he figured he would lose his nerve to tell them about New York. Sure, they supported Blaine. As long as what he chose was along the very close lines of what _they_ wanted him to do. All his life it had frustrated Blaine, and finally, he was going to do something for himself. Taken long enough.

He rang the doorbell and knocked once, then knocked twice more, hard, to sound more like a man. He couldn't believe he had to ring the doorbell at his own parents' house.

The door was pulled open to reveal Blaine's mother, Jacquelyn. Upon seeing her son Jacquelyn's eyes widened perceptibly, a large smile appearing on her face. "Blaine!" she exclaimed before grabbing him in a tight hug. He smiled into his mother's hair. Despite everything, he loved her and knew that–in her own _special_ way–she meant well. He just… had to remind himself once in a while.

Dealing with Blaine's being gay, from realizing it when he had been ready to graduate middle school, had been hard for both his parents, but especially his mother. Blaine had always been a sweet and adoring boy; she had no doubt in her mind that he could find a nice girl to settle down with. That is, until the day he decided his current girlfriend wasn't 'doing it' for him, but Connor Francis. Blaine's parents had tried to disguise their mortification, but their son saw through it. He was 'in crush' with Connor, and it killed him, along with the elder Andersons. His brother, Cooper, didn't act any differently–nothing about Blaine had _changed_, and he knew that. He accepted him, but it was so hard for everyone else.

Blaine was stuck, unable to stop how he felt, and when rumors began to spread, Blaine was targeted. Connor was completely freaked out, his parents worried that Blaine would '_try something_', and Blaine was forced to move schools. He went to Dalton Academy, where he was welcomed and felt safe. He was _home_. His parents had done everything for him in that time that they could manage and he figured that that was the most likely reason as to why he felt obligated to do whatever they wanted of him. It was a problem.

"What are you doing here?" Jacqueline asked Blaine, guiding him into the house. "What, a guy can't visit his parents?" Blaine's attempt at joking came out more stilted than he would have preferred and he inwardly face-palmed. "Well, yes, but you rarely do." Her son, his lips pressed in a tight line, nodded and looked to the ground. His mother put a hand to his shoulder and smiled encouragingly. "But I'm glad you're here, honey." At this, Blaine looked back at her and smiled, for real.

"So," she said, lowering herself to sit on the loveseat, "what's going on? Have you met someone?" She always asked him that, and Blaine was always forced to say that no, he hadn't. It sucked. Every time. "Mom, no. That isn't why I'm here. I have to talk to you and dad about something. Where is he?"

"Ah. I knew you couldn't just be here to visit. Your father is golfing with some of his friends from work. Has something important happened?"

"Uh, I think so, yeah. I uh… Mom, I'd like to go to New York City. Not just go there–I wanna move there. To New York." Jacqueline's passive expression was better than Blaine had expected or really hoped for. "And why is that?" she questioned simply.

"Well, you know I love to perform. I like selling houses and stuff too but… performing has always been my passion, mom. And I'd really like to go to New York again and keep at what I love. I just thought I should come to you and make sure you knew what I had planned."

"So it's a for sure thing then? You're–moving to New York?" Jacqueline said. Blaine nodded unsurely. "Yes. Yes; that's what I've decided." She studied him for a moment. "Blaine, are you sure you know what you're saying?"

And there it was. "Mom, yes. It's what I want," he insisted. "Sweetheart, what you want and how you should live your life, we have learned over the years, are two completely separate things. What one wants is not always best. Moving to New York City?" Jacquelyn so nonchalantly made Blaine's dreams sound so silly he was relieved that his blushes never show on his skin. Well, outside. Inside, he was beet red, both from upset and embarrassment. "This isn't some pipe dream, mom! I've always wanted to live in New York!" He made a sound of disbelief and had to look away for a second to try to collect himself.

"Just, please. I'm a grown man," he told her. His mother nodded, so gratingly calm that it made Blaine, more annoyed, want to throw something. "I'm aware. And grown men cannot just up and leave their homes and jobs–"

"I'm not happy!" he interrupted breathlessly. "Mom, I'm not _happy_! I want to meet someone; I want to fall in love but the _same_ _damn people_ live in this town! No one comes and no one goes! I can't–I can't stay here anymore. It's like I'm being _suffocated_ by what I don't have because I only _have_ what you've _allowed_ me!" He stopped and found he couldn't breathe. He had never ranted at his mother so blatantly. Would she kick him out?

"You won't believe this," mother and son heard from the kitchen. Chris Anderson stepped into the living room, shedding his windbreaker with an easy smile. "John Bancove threw out his back bending over to retrieve a ball from the water!" He laughed heartily and it receded into a low chuckle, his smile falling, when he saw the looks given to him by his wife and son. "What happened?"

Jacquelyn stood languidly. "Blaine. Would you like to tell your father what you've told me?" Blaine swallowed and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm moving to New York City," he stated. His father, imposing even in his good shape, drew his eyebrows together. "You think you're what?" _You think._ Blaine repeated himself but Chris' expression did not change. "You're kidding me. You've got to be kidding!"

"Dad, I've thought about it, and I can go and pursue realty there, along with my performing–"

"Oh; is that what this is about? Your ever-present dream to become famous?" his dad said, as though it were ridiculous. "I thought you were over that." Blaine dropped his eyes to the ground. "Apparently he isn't happy," Jacquelyn murmured. "Not happy? Having a good job and a roof over your head isn't enough for you?"

"I want a career I've earned, of my own merit, not one that I got because you paid off the boss of the company. I love to sing, I love to dance! That's never been good enough for you, but when Coop wanted to play a _sport_ you were all for that weren't you?"

"Do not make this about your brother," Chris said. "This is about _you_. We have done everything for you and you have the audacity to _complain_."

Blaine threw up his arms. "I'm not complaining! I'm _leaving_! Why can't you just support me and understand this is what I want to do?"

"Because you are making a fool of yourself! Life isn't a movie, Blaine! Pretending the chances of getting discovered are better than one in a million is_ shooting yourself in the foot_."

_Why is she just standing there like a spectator? _Blaine wondered, beyond himself. "Mom, aren't you going to help me out here?"

"I don't know what you want me to say. I don't want you to be unhappy, but if you go you could very well be ruining your life," she told him. Chris snorted. "Damn right!" Though unsure why he even bothered at this point, Blaine bit his lip to keep in the words that threatened to spill out. "So I'm supposed to leave without your support then?"

"I guess so." Chris stormed out of the room and Jacquelyn breathed in. "Blaine, honey…" she tried.

"Mom, please. I'm going;" Blaine said, shaking his head, "there's nothing left for me here. But it would be a hell of a lot easier if I had your support." His mother pressed her lips into a thin line and, only slightly, nodded her head. "We clearly can't stop you… And I would feel better if you left without a fight hanging over our heads." Blaine almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. "If this is what you're committed to do, then you can. You have a good job and I don't want you to give it up, but because I trust you, I'm sure you have everything figured out. You wouldn't come here without plans. Right?" Blaine, still unsure of what was happening, nodded. "Yes. I think so; I still have to find a place to live there of course but I have a general idea."

Jacqueline nodded. "Then I will support you in this… endeavor, and help you work out the kinks. But you have to talk to your father." Blaine agreed, albeit reluctantly, and his mother patted his upper arm. "Alright. Now, what do you say we find you a place to live?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I do not own Defying Gravity or **_**Wicked**_**. All rights go to their respective owners. **

A/N: Hi! Thank you to all of those who have followed my story! It's so awesome of all of you and I really hope you like it so far. *smiley

**Chapter Four: **

The Dramatic Duo was seated on the sofa in the living room of their loft, snuggled together with hot chocolates as they checked out the responses to their ad. Most of them were entertaining, some slightly strange, or both. Either way, it was an interesting process and despite not having wanted to do it in the first place, Kurt couldn't deny that he was enjoying himself. He and Rachel had been searching through their inbox for an hour or so, having already received quite a few responses. Most were a definite no, and it was starting to become discouraging.

"Hey," Rachel said suddenly, perking up, "this could be something. Her name is Caroline Buckson–" With a small titter Kurt muttered, "I'm sure that last name acquired a few laughs…" Rachel nudged him with a grin and continued, "'Looking for place for me and my boyfriend to hang.'" When she looked to Kurt, his nose was wrinkled, an amused smile playing at the corners of his lips. Her hopeful expression turned to one of disappointed doubt. "What's wrong?"

"Rach', she's probably just some rich teen from the Upper East Side who's gotten everything but permission from her parents to stay home alone with her boyfriend of two months," Kurt told her sarcastically. Rachel stared at him in confusion. "You swear you aren't so naïve anymore… Rachel, she wants to use this place as a love shack."

"Well, if she's paying us…" Kurt stared at her. "Kidding! Gosh; I'm kidding. Relax." Rachel, her eyes narrowed in focus and the dark-purple painted fingernails of her left hand wrapped tightly around her mug, scrolled the page. Wiggling her toes in her fluffy socks she exclaimed, "Ooooh; another girl. Her name is–_Kitty Wilde_." With a glance to Kurt, both young adults burst into a fit of laughter and were forced to set down their mugs before they caused a serious accident on Kurt's specially ordered and designed rug.

"Are you _kidding_ me? That sounds–" he squeaked out, "like a stripper name!" This sent both into another spiel of giggles and they had to take a moment to regain their breaths. Her email read that she hated her "lame-ass town" and needed to get out of there, but Rachel and Kurt were so amused they couldn't take it seriously. The former rattled off a quick reply of, _Sorry, already found someone. Thanks anyway! _Kurt snorted and Rachel found herself laughing all over again.

"Shut up! Shut up; we have to find someone! Kurt, seriously," Rachel tried, her smile ruining the effect. He nodded solemnly and pressed his lips together tightly, running his fingers across them to signify a zipper. "Okay. Maybe we could wait until tomorrow. What is it; like ten o'clock–" The opening notes to Defying Gravity rang out, signifying the arrival of another message into Rachel's inbox. She stopped. "Hm."

Clicking open the message, Rachel sat forward and Kurt sipped from his mug.

_Hi, I'm Blaine. I hope you guys haven't found anyone for your room yet; I'd love to take it. I live in Ohio, but New York has always been my dream. I'd like to be a performer, alongside my real estate career, and I know that consists of a pretty tight budget, so for now I'm renting. Thanks a lot. _

"A performer?" Rachel repeated, a large smile blossoming on her lips. "Blaine…" Kurt murmured, enjoying the sound of the name. "That's interesting. And I don't think he'll mind our breaking spontaneously into song and dance numbers." Rachel grinned and nodded eagerly. "We have to meet him! What do you think? Is it a yes?"

_Hey, Blaine! Kurt and I would love to have you come out to NYC so we can meet you, if that isn't too much of an inconvenience. Tell us a date and we'll expect you then_, the message read. His eyes wide, Blaine stared at the screen. He had only just sent his email; he couldn't believe they had replied so quickly. His mother nodded encouragingly and Blaine was suddenly very aware of his stomach. It was happening. It was actually happening. And he could hardly wait.

_I'd love to come out! How's Saturday? _


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. All rights go to their respective owners. **

A/N: Thanks to all of you that have stuck around; I know I haven't updated for this fic in a while. It's a short chap cuz I'm tired buuuut thanks for reading it anyway *smiley

**Chapter Five: **

"So you're really going?" Sebastian said. His eyebrows were lifted nearly to his hairline but Blaine only sighed as he continued his packing. "Sorry, it's just… I didn't actually think you'd do it." Blaine dropped his blue polo shirt into his suitcase and looked at his friend. "And why not?"

"Well, you're just… You just have a history of being fairly…" Blaine raised his own eyebrows at him. "Passive aggressive," Sebastian concluded hesitantly. "Key _word–history._ I'm going to New York, Bash,"–at this, he continued with his packing– "and if I like Rachel and Kurt's loft, I'm moving there within the week."

"You're moving in with a straight couple?" Sebastian asked, his tone blunt. "It would appear so. I don't mind, anyway, they sound nice enough." Sebastian gave him a Look. "But you haven't even met them!"

"Hence, the reason I'm going to New York! Why're you being so weird?" Blaine questioned, folding a pair of pants. "I'm–not; I'm just worried. You aren't even close to old and yet here you are, having a mid-life crisis."

"I'm not having a–mid-life crisis, Bash. It's called moving in a new and better direction–forward. You could try it, too." Both men went quiet and he looked at Sebastian. "You know what I mean."

"Right. And while you're off accomplishing your dreams and who the hell knows what else, I'm stuck here alone," Sebastian said. "You don't have to be! It's not easy being gay in this town, Bash, but you of all people can make it work. Find some friends, go out and live a little." Sebastian snorted. "And _you of all people_ are telling _me_? Have our roles reversed or am I just losing my mind?"

"Can't lose what you never had," Blaine joked. Sebastian didn't get it. "Look, really, it'll be fine. You'll be fine, I'll be fine. It isn't even that big a deal. But if I stay here, I will lose _my_ mind." Sebastian muttered something that closely resembled what Blaine had said before and the latter rolled his eyes. "I'd love to be able to see my best friend when I get back. Do I still have one, or…?"

Sebastian waited a moment before pressing his lips into a reluctant grin. "I guess so. Lucky bastard." Blaine laughed and shrugged before zipping his bag. Next stop…


End file.
